


Invisible

by likehandlingroses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M, just right verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14437236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likehandlingroses/pseuds/likehandlingroses
Summary: When Robin comes to stay with Gideon over the summer, she meets his new friend from university: Alice Jones. They hit it off right away, but will Robin's fear of what others think stand in the way of their budding attraction?





	Invisible

Robin squinted up at the clouds, trying to think of something to say. Gideon never should have left her alone with Alice; if Robin had known he’d play such a rotten trick on her, she’d never have come. She’d only taken an internship all the way across the country because Gideon had convinced her it was a good idea.

“We haven’t really seen each other in ages,” he’d said. “And you can stay with my family and save some money, while you’re at it.”

He hadn’t mentioned his other friends. Roderick, his boyfriend, seemed nice enough, and Gideon was obviously smitten, but it took Robin time to warm to people. Gideon had moved away when he was twelve, and she still considered him one of her closest friends. She wished she could say it was out of loyalty, but as fond as Robin was of Gideon, she knew it also stemmed from a guardedness, a sense of having already told too many people too many things about herself.

Except now Gideon had gone and left her waiting on the Golds’ front porch with his _other_ best friend, Alice.

He’d said they’d leave at eleven, Robin thought as she looked at the time on her phone again. The four of them were going downtown for lunch, somewhere nice with reservations. Reservations they were now in danger of missing, though Gideon had insisted otherwise when she cornered him the hallway at ten to eleven.

“I made it so we have plenty of time,” he said, though Robin looked unconvinced. “It’s Saturday, people tend to sleep in.”

“In who?” Robin quipped.

“That's not...that doesn’t even make sense,” Gideon said half-heartedly as he pushed past her, shutting the bathroom door in her face.

Regardless of the reason, she was now stuck trying to make small talk with a girl she barely knew.  

“Did you make those earrings?” Alice finally asked.

“Hm?” Robin put one of her hands up to her ear--she could hardly remember which ones she’d put on that morning, despite the fact that the long, forest green beads were her favorite pair.  “Oh, no, actually...a friend from high school made them, though. Good eye. My mom was convinced they’d make my ears fall off, but so far I’ve still got two.”

“Me too. So far,” Alice said, laughing to herself. “I suppose you never know what’ll happen though, do you?”

She had a beautiful smile. Effortless and open. Robin regretted not confirming whether or not she was queer with Gideon. She _was_ wearing a vest under an open flannel, which had seemed obvious enough a signal a moment ago, but now the butterflies in Robin’s stomach made her second guess herself. They were farther west than she’d ever been...perhaps that was how everyone dressed.

“Yeah, I guess not,” she said, looking down at the pavement.

“I like them,” Alice continued. “The earrings. I’m glad they didn’t make your ears fall off.”

“Thanks,” Robin forced herself to look at Alice and smile. The looming threat of silence came over them, and Robin scrambled for something that would continue the conversation.

“So do you stay at the Golds' most holidays, or--?”

“Mostly, yeah,” Alice said. “They’re first rate, all of them. That’s why they’re the Golds, I guess.”

She grinned again at her own joke, and Robin laughed.

“That’s super cool; I never thought of that,” she said, and she didn’t think she was imagining how Alice’s cheeks went pink.

* * *

 

Of course Gideon would have taken them somewhere they played classical music in the bathroom, Robin thought. 

_As long as he’s paying._

She lingered by the sink and waited for Alice, who was humming along to the music. Robin grinned and reached for her lip gloss. She was sweet…

Another woman finished before Alice did, and as she left the stall she caught Robin’s eye and tossed her head in the direction of Alice’s stall.

“Crazy,” she mouthed, and Robin gave a breathless laugh without wanting to. She swallowed hard and forced her gaze back to the mirror, applying her lip gloss with shaking hands. Letting the task consume her, she hardly noticed Alice had finished until she heard her talking to the woman who had mocked her.

“It’s nice they play music in here, isn’t it?” she said, with that same good-natured cadence Robin had yet to hear leave her voice. “Some bathrooms it’s like a cave. All echoey.”

Alice laughed just a bit too loudly, and Robin didn’t need to look at the woman to know she didn’t find it funny. Not the way Alice meant it, anyway.

“Are you waiting for the song to finish or me?” Alice asked, and Robin knew that she was talking to her, now. She could feel her getting closer, but Robin only shrugged her shoulders and kept her eyes on the mirror, feeling her face getting hot.

She wished Alice would stop. The woman clearly didn’t want to talk to her, and now Alice was dragging her into it, making her seem like a nuisance as well.

 _I understand,_ she wanted to say to the woman. _I don’t want to bother you, I know she’s bothering you, please don’t think I don’t know._

“The song, then,” Alice said, so quietly Robin could hardly hear her. In another moment, she’d left the bathroom. Robin waited until the other woman had left as well before taking three deep breaths--each exactly eight counts, four in, four out. Then and only then did she open the door.

Only Gideon was still at their table, though they’d talked of ordering dessert before leaving. He gave Robin a funny look as she sat down, though she pretended not to notice.

“Where’d everyone go?”

“Roderick went outside to talk to Alice,” Gideon said. “She was upset; said you didn’t recognize her.”

“Oh, that,” Robin said, feeling breathless again. She laughed and picked up her fork, only to set it back down again when she realized how the fork shook in her hand.

“You think this is funny?” Gideon said, lowering his voice as he leaned forward. “You acted like you didn’t even know her.”

“Well, she was…look, it’s not a big deal,” Robin fumbled, avoiding Gideon’s stare.

“I’m not sure that’s for you to decide.”

Robin’s eyes flitted up to Gideon’s, and it was no better than she’d feared. He was angry with her.

“What do you want to me do?” she protested. “She was being weird, and you know what? I don’t know her. She’s not my friend.”

“You two were getting on perfectly fine before other people started looking in.”

So he’d noticed. Had things not been as they were, Robin would have been pleased. But this was wrong, it was all wrong.

“And I’m just not supposed to care what anyone else thinks, right?” she said, trying to ignore the guilt creeping up on her.

“If caring means you’re hurting someone, then yes,” Gideon retorted.

“Oh my God...she’s a big girl. I’m sure she--”

“--has that happen all the time? Why don’t you ask her?” It was only then that Robin realized how loud Gideon’s voice had gotten. How loud _she’d_ gotten. People were looking at them, and Robin ducked her head down and stared at her plate.

Gideon had noticed the looks too, for he lowered his voice, though his tone was just as firm.

“I really thought it would be nice to have you here. But you’re acting like a completely different person, you know that? And not a nice one, either.”

He was right. Robin didn’t know how to say it to him, but he was right. It wasn’t until Gideon stood up and murmured about finding a waiter for the bill that she spoke up, not caring how loud she was.

“Look, Gideon: I’m sorry,” she said. “I know what you’re talking about. I was a jerk. But that’s not...please don’t hate me, okay?”

Gideon frowned, but he sat down again anyway, and Robin took that as a win.

“I get nervous--I _am_ nervous--all the time,” she continued. “That people are judging me, that I’m screwing something up...it’s like, I can’t just be a person. It sucks.”

Gideon nodded. “Sounds like anxiety,” he said, and Robin was relieved to see no trace of anger or disappointment on his face.

“No, it’s not...I mean I get anxious, but it’s not like a capital ‘A’ thing,” Robin explained. “Like, I’m not scared to leave my house or touch people or whatever...I just have to get over myself, sometimes.”

She laughed, and Gideon gave a small smile, though something serious lay behind his eyes.

“Well, if you ever have any questions, the Gold family has a pretty strong strain of neurotic disorders and accompanying medications,” he said. “And it’s alright to need help.”

Robin hated asking for help. She always had. It seemed weak, incompetent...but she didn’t think of any of the Golds as weak or incompetent.

They were first rate.

Robin smiled to herself, and then at Gideon.

“Thanks,” she said, standing up. “Now, I’ve gotta go fix something…”

She’d nearly forgotten about Roderick, who gave her a look of distaste as she approached the bench outside of the restaurant where they were sitting. He turned and murmured something to Alice, who shrugged and muttered something in return. Only then did Roderick stand up and walk back into the restaurant, ignoring Robin as he passed.

Robin took a breath--four in, four out--before making her final approach to the bench.

“Can I sit here?” she blurted out, before she could catch Alice’s eye and lose her nerve.

“Don’t know,” Alice said, looking just past her left ear. “Can you see me alright, now?”

Nevertheless, she made a small motion over to the edge of the bench, giving Robin permission to sit next to her.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, and Alice looked at her, then. Really looked at her. “I was rude. And it’s not your fault—it’s mine. I care too much about what other people think, and it makes me embarrassing. Like, who wants to be around someone who acts like that, right? It’s so high school—and not the fun stuff, either. The really crappy parts of high school.”

She was talking too much, and she hated it, but Alice didn’t seem bothered. Indeed, she gave one of her easy smiles and nodded.

“Well, it’s easier to care about what other people say, I suppose,” she said. “There’s so many of them, and only one of you.”

Robin had never felt so attached to someone else’s words, to the way they saw the world. It frightened her, a bit. She didn’t know Alice yet, but she wanted to. Desperately. That couldn’t be good.

Or perhaps it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

“Can we start over?” she dared to ask. Alice’s eyes widened. “I’ll get it if you don’t want to, but I really like you. And I’d love for us to all be friends.”

Alice bit her lip, considering the question.

“Promise not to make me invisible again?” she asked.

“Promise,” Robin said without hesitation.

“Then I suppose it’s alright,” Alice said with a grin.

“Oh, awesome!” Robin said, too loudly. “I mean...thank you.”

Alice only smiled in response before making a comment about how they’d better go back in before Gideon and Roderick decided they didn’t want dessert after all.

“And they have all sorts of things here...and the desserts are little, so you can get two! Or at least, I do...”

“Maybe we can get four and share them all,” Robin suggested as they walked back into the restaurant. Alice stopped in the doorway and stared at her with a look that even Robin’s anxiety couldn’t mistake for anything but interest.

“I’d love to.”

  



End file.
